Soar
by happylikeafool
Summary: Sequel to Swim. Callie learns the hard way that you can't just go from struggling to swim against raging currents to soaring overnight. Figuring out how to navigate her new post-cancer world isn't easy but at least she isn't doing it alone.
1. Prologue: Letters from the Future

A/N: So, I never had any intentions of writing a sequel to Swim. However, in the original outline, Swim was supposed to have an epilogue. I could never manage to actually write that epilogue though, which I eventually realized was because there was still a lot of story left to tell - hence this sequel.

If you haven't read Swim and/or need a reminder of what happened here is my three sentence summary (note that it is AU from around Adoption Day):

Two weeks after her non-adoption Callie developed a cough, which, blood work, an ultrasound, a chest x-ray, two CT scans, an excisional biopsy, a bone marrow biopsy, and a PET scan later, was revealed to be Stage 2A Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Cue six months of chemotherapy, where Callie loses her hair, her appetite, her energy, and her ability to concentrate but learns what it means to have a family that she can really depend on. Then, on the day that Callie is told that she is in remission, Lena gives birth to a baby boy, who they name Jacob after his big sister.

Chapter 1 will pick up essentially right where Swim left off but I wanted to start with this prologue as an intro. It serves as a slightly-better-than-the-three sentences-above summary of Swim and, if you squint, also provides a summary of this sequel.

This is for detective-smartypants, who is responsible for convincing me to post. Thank you for putting up with my rambling.

* * *

_**Prologue: Letters from the Future**_

Sometime about a year after her cancer diagnosis, Callie sat down and wrote a letter that would never, could never, be mailed. Even years later she would sometimes pull that letter out from a box and read:

Dear Last Year Me,

I think I'll lead this letter with, you're still alive. Trust me, you'll be glad to know that.

Also, you're adopted. I know you're worried about that, so I wanted you to know that you don't have to be.

You're about to hear some scary words. Words that you might think you know the meaning of but that, really, you don't:

Lymphoma;

Cancer;

Chemo;

And a bunch of other words that you've never heard before.

Actually, what's about to happen is sort of like one big vocabulary lesson but without a test at the end. Although, honestly, even if there was a test, you would probably ace it. Every single one of those new words is going to be branded into your memory - the rest of your memory, well, it's not going to be quite what it used to be.

Yes, it sucks. It's okay to think so. It's okay to say so too.

At first, things are going to move much slower than you want them to. Be patient, even when you think you can't be. Take it a day at a time, an hour at a time, if you have to. It's not going to feel like you're standing on the edge of a cliff forever, I promise. You're not going to fall off the cliff either, I promise.

It's okay to cry. It's okay to smile too.

In the next year, you're going to feel more loved than you've ever felt before. You're going to finally understand, finally remember, what it means to have a family, what it means to have people you can depend on, people who care about you and who _take care_ of you, people who love you unconditionally.

In the next year, you're also going to feel lonelier than you've ever felt before. No one will really understand what you're going through and you're not going to know how (or want) to really, truly, explain. That's okay. One day you'll meet some fellow cancer survivors who will get the indescribable "it". They'll teach you how to stay sane even on the days that you feel crazy. Unfortunately, no matter what you do, some days you're just gonna feel crazy – it will be easier if you just go with it.

Give yourself a break. You won't be perfect. No one expects you to be perfect. I promise.

Also, I know you don't want to hear this, but, worry less about losing your hair. Oh and try not to be_ too_ annoyed with people who tell you not to worry about losing your hair and/or that hair grows back (for the record, it does grow back, _slowly_). It's hard to believe, but your hair falling out won't seem so bad once it actually starts happening – maybe because there are other things to worry about. You won't get used to it overnight but you_ will_ get used it. Unfortunately I can't say the same for losing your eyelashes and nose hair. Yes, you read that right. I know it's shocking news, but it turns out that nose hair has a purpose – I won't spoil the surprise.

Another piece of hair related advice, shave the stragglers the first time you consider doing it. Don't worry, you actually have a decent enough looking head, so you won't look so bad bald (plus anything will look better than the Gollum look you sport for a while).

Don't be so stubborn. Try and remember that you don't have to do _everything_ yourself. Your moms really just want to help. Sometimes you should let them.

Speaking of being stubborn – try and worry less about what everyone else is thinking (or what you _think_ everyone else is thinking) and worry more about what your body is telling you. When your body tells you it's had enough, listen. More importantly, listen the first time, not when you basically have a meltdown in a parking lot because a car door is locked.

Similarly, don't rush back to school so fast when everything is done and over with. Just because you feel a little antsy doesn't mean you're anywhere near ready for a full school day. You just killed your body over and over again for 6 months, no matter what you try and tell yourself, you're not going to be magically better overnight. It's going to take some time. And I don't just mean physically. Try not to push all those scary emotions aside. They're not just going to disappear, no matter how hard you hope they will.

I don't want to sugar coat things, the next year of your life is definitely not going to be great but, here I am, standing on the other side of that year, not _much _worse for wear, so please know that it's going to be okay.

Besides, the words "you're in remission" will feel so indescribably wonderful that for a second you will _almost_ feel like the whole thing was worth it just to get to feel that way. The closest I can come to describing it is that it will feel like you could do absolutely anything - maybe even fly. The feeling won't last forever though, so try and savour it as long as possible. Afterwards, on the days that you feel overwhelmed, try and think about that feeling. Close your eyes and picture yourself soaring. It will help.

I could say I lot more but I think, unfortunately, you have to figure some things out yourself.

So, look in the mirror today and smile at yourself. Say hello and then say goodbye to the person smiling back at you. You're going to be a completely different person next year (and I don't just mean physically). It's hard to really explain what I mean by "different". People will assume that you're stronger but you won't really be. Some days you'll feel stronger but a lot of days you'll just feel weaker. I guess, the best way I can describe the difference is this: you'll mostly still be you but every day will feel just a little bit special. Every day that you wake up and you're alive, you'll be grateful - everything else about the next year might be a burden, but that there, along with your family, is a gift.

See you on the other side,  
Love,  
Your Next Year Self

Callie liked to re-read that letter because it reminded her to never stop being grateful, it reminded her that every day she woke up and opened her eyes was a good day.

Every time she re-read that letter though, it also reminded her of how difficult that entire year had been. Chemo, of course, had been horrible but the thing the letter really reminded her of was that her cancer journey hadn't ended with chemo.

She wasn't sure what other people assumed happened once a person was done with cancer, but what she'd assumed was that it went something like: you have cancer, you hopefully beat cancer, and then you get back to life and hope that cancer never bothers you again. As if cancer was just a minor detour. As if surviving cancer didn't require you to forfeit pieces of yourself that you couldn't possibly ever get back.

It was laughable, almost, how wrong she'd been.

Through six long months of chemo she'd comforted herself by thinking that she just had to make it across the finish line. That after chemo she could un-hit the pause button and just go back to her pre-cancer life, her pre-cancer self. No one had warned her that there was no pause button to un-hit. Time had been marching forward through each of those six torturous months. Her pre-cancer life, and her pre-cancer self, had ceased to exist that day in the doctor's office where she'd first heard the words Hodgkin's Lymphoma.

Life after cancer was nothing like she expected. The initial elation of the remission news, while wonderful, didn't last nearly long enough and in its place came fear, uncertainty, and confusion.

Sometimes she thought that the six months following chemo were just as difficult as those six long months in treatment. Chemo had been difficult physically but those six months following chemo were difficult mentally and Callie had never been great at dealing with her feelings.

As she learned the hard way, you couldn't just go from struggling to swim against raging currents to soaring overnight. She needed time to catch her breath. Time to make sure she wasn't just going to sink. Time to process what had happened. Time to accept how cancer had, and would continue to, impact her life.

Figuring out how to soar in her new post-cancer world wasn't easy but, at least, she hadn't had to do it alone.


	2. Chapter 1: The Good Life

A/N: Here is a chapter filled with mostly fluff before we get into the real "plot" (if you can call it that) of the story. Hope you enjoy! :)

* * *

_**Chapter 1: The Good Life**_

The morning after Dr. Lawson uttered what, if asked, Callie would probably call her favourite word – remission – Callie woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside of her window.

Rolling over onto her back and squinting up at the ceiling, a slow smile spread across her face as she remembered the events of the previous day – the remission news and Jacob being born. It had been one of the best days of her life.

She continued to smile as another thought crossed her mind. Yesterday might have been one of the best days of her life so far but today, she was pretty sure, was going to be even better. Today felt like the first day of the rest of her life. It was the first day of the life she was going to get to have and, for the first time in maybe ever, she felt like it was going to be a good life.

When she finally got out of bed, it was with a spring in her step.

* * *

Stef, Lena, and Jacob came home from the hospital just before dinner. They were greeted in the entranceway by all five of Jacob's siblings.

Jude had wanted to make a Welcome Home banner but Callie had shaken her head no at the suggestion, the reaction surprising her other siblings since she rarely denied Jude anything he wanted. When she explained what she wanted to do instead though, they all, even Jude, had quickly nodded in agreement, understanding.

So, there they were, standing in age order in the entranceway, each holding a sheet of paper with a single word on it.

We

Love

Our

Baby

Brother

At the sight of those pieces of paper, slightly better decorated but essentially the same as the ones from Callie's adoption day, Lena couldn't stop happy tears from filling her eyes. She loved her children more than words could ever possibly describe.

* * *

While they waited for the pizza man to deliver their dinner, the family gathered in the living room.

Callie was sitting in one of the chairs, holding Jacob, cooing softly down at him in a hushed whisper, "Hi baby, hi baby. I love you."

From the couch, where he was sitting between Mariana and Lena, Jude bounced, "Can I hold him, now?"

Stef laughed at her son's enthusiasm, "Sure bud…" she glanced over at Callie who was still whispering softly to the baby, "…if your sister will let him go."

"Do I _have_ to?" Callie glanced up from Jacob, her words clearly teasing.

"Unless you want Jude to bounce right off the couch, probably," Stef decided, moving to get up from her perch on the armrest of Brandon's chair, intent on grabbing Jacob from Callie but the girl was already standing and walking over towards the couch.

Callie stood in front of Jude, waiting for her younger brother to get adjusted, before she carefully placed the baby in his arms, not pulling her hands away as she said, "Watch his head."

"I know," Jude nodded, still now, taking the job of holding the baby seriously.

Callie nodded too, slowly withdrawing her hands from the baby, leaving him completely in Jude's arms, but she didn't move from where she was standing, gnawing on her lip as she looked down, watching Jude hold Jacob.

Stef watched Callie rock, almost nervously, on the balls of her feet and she had to suppress the urge to laugh. She got up and walked over to the girl, placing her hand on the small of her back and leaning in to whisper in her ear, "You're hovering. He's okay."

Stef felt Callie relax marginally and she gently guided her daughter back towards her chair. She nudged Callie gently back into her seat and then she stood behind the chair, running her hand slowly over the top of Callie's head, smoothing the fuzz. She watched Jude hold Jacob a minute before she glanced down at Callie, suppressing the urge to laugh again. Poor Jacob, it seemed, was going to grow up with more than just mothers hovering over him.

* * *

Early the following morning, Stef walked into the living room, stopping to do a double take. All five of her teenagers were sprawled out around the room – Callie and Mariana were lying on opposite ends of the couch, Brandon and Jude had claimed chairs, and Jesus was lying flat on his back on the ground, his head supported by one of the pillows that was usually found on the couch, the back of one hand flung up covering his face.

"Good morning babies," Stef greeted the group quietly.

Jesus groaned from his position on the floor, not removing his arm from his face as he grumbled, "Good?"

"Rough night?" Stef smiled down at Jesus before she glanced around at the rest of her children. They all looked tired.

"You could say that," Brandon nodded pointedly.

"Do all babies cry _that _much?" Mariana asked as she adjusted her position on the couch, yawning as she sat up.

Stef glanced over at Brandon as she answered, "Well B actually cried more…"

"_More_?" Jude's word was spoken in complete disbelief as his eyes widened at the horrifying possibility that the baby might start crying more.

Stef chuckled at her no-longer-youngest son's reaction. She stepped closer to him and ruffled his hair, "Don't worry buddy, I'll run to the drug store sometime today and get ear plugs for everyone. That should help you all sleep."

From the floor, Jesus pulled his arm away from his face and shot a thumbs-up in the air.

Stef laughed at her son's action as she moved over towards the couch, nudging Callie over and sitting between her two girls.

Mariana immediately snuggled into Stef's side, closing her eyes as Stef ran her fingers through her hair.

"Tired Miss Thing?" Stef hummed softly.

"Mmhm," Mariana nodded not bothering to open her eyes.

"How about you, love?" Stef asked, turning her gaze to her eldest daughter, eyeing her carefully, a bit concerned about her not getting the sleep she needed.

Callie shrugged, titling her head so that she was looking over at Stef as she answered, "I think I got more sleep than everyone else." It was the truth, she'd gone to bed two hours before anyone else had even considered climbing under the covers, plus she'd taken an afternoon nap before Stef, Lena and Jacob had come home.

"That's not really what I asked," Stef shook her head, reaching over and placing her hand on Callie's knee, squeezing gently, "Are you tired?"

Callie thought about the question before she shook her head, "No more than usual."

Stef nodded, accepting the answer. Callie being tired really _wasn't_ unusual. "Well, if you need a nap this afternoon, please make sure you take one."

Callie almost laughed, "Oh I will."

Stef glanced around the room again then, deciding, "I think you might not be the only one napping today."

Jesus shot another thumbs up in the air and this time both Callie and Stef laughed.

Stef was just about to ask if anyone wanted breakfast when there was a knock at the door.

"Who is trying to visit us so early?" Brandon groaned, the grimace on his face suggesting just how unimpressed he was.

From the floor, this time Jesus shot a thumbs-down, which made Jude giggle.

"Well…don't you all rush to answer it at once," Stef deadpanned as she got up off on the couch and moved towards the entrance, no one else in the room even moving an inch. Truthfully she agreed with Brandon – she had no idea who would be visiting them so early. When she pulled the door open though, she was suddenly a lot less surprised than maybe she should be. "Mom, you're early."

Standing on the other side of the door, Sharon smiled widely at her daughter, "I got an earlier flight. I couldn't wait any longer to see that grandchild of mine."

Stef shook her head – she was too tired to be anything but amused by her mother. "Come in. Lena's feeding him right now but they should be down soon."

"Oh, I didn't mean _that _grandchild," Sharon started, entering the house, ignoring the quirked eyebrow as she gave her daughter hug. When she pulled back from the hug, she clarified, "Well, him too, of course. But I meant Callie. Remission! Stef, you must be ecstatic."

Stef shook her head, chuckling lightly, the chuckle eventually being replaced with a soft, wistful, smile, "Ecstatic doesn't even begin to cover it mom."

Sharon returned the smile, knowingly, "Well, where is she? I need to give her the biggest hug!"

Stef pointed to the living, "The entire brood is in there."

* * *

Around noon, Stef, Sharon, and Callie found themselves in the kitchen. They were making lunch for everyone. It was just sandwiches but when you were feeding eight people any meal was a production.

They'd set up a production line, Sharon was spreading mayonnaise on the bread, Callie was adding the toppings, and Stef was cutting the sandwiches in half and pilling them onto a plate.

Callie had just handed Stef the latest finished sandwich to be cut when she puffed out an annoyed breath, a familiar feeling overcoming her. Suddenly much too hot, her head feeling like it was on fire, she pulled urgently at the sleeves of her sweater, taking it off, and then she stood there debating whether she should pull her socks off too.

Noticing the now familiar action for what it was, Stef immediately set her knife down and moved towards the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap and handing it to Callie.

Callie took the offered water bottle gratefully, taking a sip and slowly swishing the cool liquid around her mouth, swallowing and taking another sip, repeating the action.

Sharon continued to slowly spread mayonnaise on the piece of bread in front of her, watching the interaction quietly but intently. She waited for her daughter to quit fluttering around her granddaughter before she quirked an eyebrow in the former's direction, "Everything okay?"

Stef nodded, glancing over at Callie who was still flushed and slowly sipping the cold water, before looking back at her mother, explaining, "It's just a hot flash."

"A hot flash?" Sharon scrunched up her brow confused, "Like menopause? That kind of hot flash?"

If Callie hadn't already been flushed from the hot flash she probably would have blushed from the embarrassment. As it was, she ducked her head.

"Mom," Stef hissed, suddenly kicking herself for even bringing the hot flash up. Trust her mother to say the complete wrong things.

"What Stefanie?" Sharon eyed her daughter, "I was just asking because if that's the kind of hot flash you are referring to, I was going to chastise you for putting the word _just_ in front of it. Nobody who's been through menopause would call a hot flash, _just _a hot flash."

Callie snorted, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth, laughing as she glanced over at Sharon, who winked knowingly at her.

Stef shook her head but relaxed as Callie laughed, reaching over and shoving her daughter's shoulder playfully, "It's not nice to laugh at your mother's expense you know."

"Hey, it's not her fault that you don't get it," Sharon laughed.

Callie nodded in agreement, smirking over at Stef then, unable to stop herself as she teased, "It's okay though, don't worry mom. You're pretty old. You'll understand soon enough."

"You didn't," Stef shook her head in disbelief.

Callie pulled a face, "I kinda did."

Stef reached over and tried to tickle Callie's side but the girl squirmed away from her and she ended up having to chase her around the table, catching up quickly and easily grabbing her with one arm and spinning her around, as Callie squealed. Stef actually did tickle her then, until Callie panted out between laughs, "Stop, please, stop."

Stef tickled her once more for good measure before she let her go, directing her back to her sandwich making station with a kiss to the side of her head and a gentle shove. "Let that be a reminder to you. No one calls me old in my house."

When Sharon laughed, Stef pretended to glare at her, "And what are you laughing at?"

Sharon just shrugged, an amused smile on her lips, as she went back to spreading mayonnaise on bread, handing a finished piece to Callie, offering as casually as she could, "So the hot flashes _are_ from menopause then?"

Stef stilled. She thought that they'd ended that conversation but trust her mother to not be satisfied without an actual answer. She was about to speak when Callie beat her to it.

"Yes," Callie nodded, surprising herself. Being seventeen and in menopause was awkward. Going through menopause before either of her mothers only added to that awkwardness and, so, she rarely talked about it. Something about the way her grandmother had joked about hot flashes had put her at ease though. Besides, there wasn't really any point lying about it – she _was_ in menopause.

"_Temporary_ menopause. From the chemo," Stef clarified. The oncologist had assured them that it should only be temporary and that there was no reason to worry unless it lasted more than a year post-chemo.

Sharon nodded, spreading mayonnaise on the last piece of bread before she offered, "Well temporary or not, hot flashes suck." She smiled over at Callie.

Callie scrunched up her nose, making her thoughts on the matter clear, "Yup."

Putting the twist-tie back on the bread bag, Sharon tilted her head thoughtfully, "You know what you need, kiddo? Some black cohosh. Or maybe flax seed."

"Black _what_?" Stef crinkled her brow and shook her head at her mother, "Thanks mom but we don't really don't need any of your quack-y solutions."

"Stefanie, my solutions are_ not_ quack-y," Sharon shook her head, "But fine, don't take my advice. It wouldn't be the first time."

"Or the last," Stef grumbled under her breath.

"I heard that," Sharon raised an eyebrow and Callie laughed.

* * *

Although, as a whole, the group seemed much more lively eating lunch than they had earlier that morning, everyone was still a lot quieter than usual as they sat around the table munching on their sandwiches.

"So, I was thinking…" Sharon started.

Stef looked up from her plate, smirking at her mother as she said, "That's _never_ good."

Sharon just shook her head, rolling her eyes ever so slightly before continuing, unbothered, "You should let me plan a party."

"A party?" Stef asked confused, glancing over at Lena and seeing an equally confused expression on her wife's face.

"Yes. A remission party," Sharon smiled, clarifying her idea.

"Ooh a remission party. That sounds awesome!" Mariana nodded, suddenly very enthusiastic.

"Ya!" Jude grinned, feeding off of Mariana's enthusiasm, bouncing in his seat.

Stef chuckled at her children's enthusiasm, watching Callie carefully a minute, before she smiled over at her mother, "Sure, we can have party."

Callie's eyes widened as she glanced up from her sandwich, "We…we don't need to have a party."

Lena could see how uncomfortable Callie was and she asked softly, "You don't want a party sweetheart? Because I think it's a great idea."

"But…" Callie bit her lip, wide brown eyes searching Lena's face, "…we just had a birthday party."

"Oh sweetheart…" Lena sighed.

Stef jumped in, reaching over and placing her hand on top of Callie's, "Yes we just had a birthday party because…this might shock you…it was your birthday. Birthdays and remissions are not the same thing, sweets."

"Mom is right kiddo," Lena continued, "We always planned on celebrating your remission properly…your brother just showed up a bit early and threw a monkey wrench in those plans. So if your grandmother wants to help plan a party, I think that's perfect."

"I…" Callie glanced around the table, finally accepting what her parents were telling her as Jude grinned widely at her, shooting her a thumbs up, "…I guess…if you're really okay with it."

"Okay with it?" Stef shook her head before she moved the hand that was covering Callie's to the girl's back, running it up and down slowly, "You say that like we all think that celebrating your remission is a chore. Trust me sweets, it's not. Not even close."

"Ya, mom's right. What would be a chore would be _not_ getting to celebrate it," Jesus offered his opinion, winking at Callie across the table, "Do you think they'll let me have _real _fireworks this time?"

"Jesus…" Stef shook her head at her son as everyone laughed.

When the laughter died down, Brandon locked eyes with Callie across the table, "Do you have any idea how happy you being in remission makes us?" He asked thoughtfully, "Because it's _really _happy. Definitely celebration-worthy levels of happy."

"Definitely," Mariana nodded.

"Yep," Jude chirped.

"What they said," Jesus agreed.

"There you have it," Stef leaned over and kissed the side of Callie's head, "Your family has spoken. A party is a must."

Callie grinned widely then, feeding off everyone's enthusiasm, agreeing, "Okay." The truth was her siblings weren't the only ones who felt celebration-worthy levels of happiness about her remission. Every time she remembered Dr. Lawson uttering that word, remission, she felt herself smiling. She'd basically done almost nothing but smile since she'd left the cancer center two days ago.

"Plus," Stef added after a beat, "It will keep your grandmother out of my hair."

Sharon narrowed her eyes as her grandchildren laughed.

* * *

Shortly after lunch, Sharon found Stef alone in her room with Jacob.

Stef had brought the baby upstairs to change him fifteen minutes ago. Now she was seated in the rocking chair they'd set up in the corner of the room, rocking Jacob gently, staring down at her son in wonder. She wondered if he could already feel how much he was loved. She hoped he could.

Sharon watched her daughter watch her son for several minutes before she cleared her throat and stepped into the room, "I thought maybe you got lost."

Stef looked up, smiling softly at her mother, "No, just squeezing in a little Jacob time. As soon as I bring him downstairs, someone else is going to want to hold him."

Sharon nodded, moving closer to the rocking chair and reaching down to run her hand over the top of her grandson's head before leaning in and planting a kiss on Stef's cheek, "I know I already said this…but he's beautiful."

"He really is, isn't he?" Stef smiled, her eyes back on her son.

Sharon moved back and took a seat on the bed, facing the rocking chair, sitting quietly a minute before she asked, "So…how are you really doing?"

Stef's brow wrinkled in confusion as she glanced over at her mother, "What?"

"Stef, your baby was born the same day that you found out that your daughter is in remission. Those are both fantastic, wonderful, things but…don't tell me you don't feel a little overwhelmed," Sharon quirked an eyebrow. She knew her daughter.

"I…" Stef glanced down at the baby and then back up at her mother, sighing, "I'm so happy mom, I _really _am. About Jacob, about Callie, about _everything_. But I also feel…I can't believe I'm telling you this…" Stef sighed, wondering how her mother always managed to get her to talk, as she continued "…it's just…I wonder, what happens now? For months our life has been about two things, getting Callie through treatment and getting ready for the baby. And now…it's almost like I don't know what to do with myself."

"Well…getting ready for a baby is easier than actually taking care of one, so there's that," Sharon hummed, smiling gently at Stef, "And Callie might be in remission but she's definitely not better yet…I mean, she's sound asleep on the couch downstairs right now…and the menopause…poor kid…"

Stef nodded, "It's been a horrible seven months mom…I don't even think you could understand."

"No, I can't," Sharon agreed, her eyes softening as she whispered, "But I can imagine. A sick child is one of a mother's worst nightmares, I reckon."

Stef sighed, "But that's over now. She's in remission."

"Yes, yes she is," Sharon nodded, "And like you said, you're _really _happy about that. Ecstatic. We all are. But…Stef…those seven months happened and they were horrible and I know you…I know you might want to sweep everything under the rug, pretend that you no longer have feelings about those seven months…but please don't do that. You'll regret it in the long run."

Stef blinked rapidly, watching her mother for several long minutes before she offered quietly, "Sometimes your advice isn't so terrible, you know."

Sharon chuckled lightly at that, getting up from the bed and walking back over to the rocker, kissing Stef's forehead, whispering, "You've done good kid. Your children are lucky to have you as a mother." She reached her hands out, "Now give me that baby. I want some snuggle time with my grandson."

* * *

By the time dinner rolled around, the number of people in the house had increased to include Dana and Stewart, who had arrived late that afternoon to meet their grandson.

Jacob was currently sleeping in the baby seat nearby, while everyone else sat around the outdoor table, passing the food around and chatting.

"So how did you decide on the name Jacob?" Dana asked as she scooped the salad that Stewart passed her onto her plate, her words hinting that she was more than just asking for the sake of conversation.

Lena smiled softly down the table at Callie before she answered confidently, "We wanted to name him after his sister." Her mother might have a habit of making her second guess her decisions but Lena was not about to let Dana make her second guess this decision – especially not in front of Callie.

"Well, I think it's a fine name," Stewart smiled at both his daughter and his granddaughter across the table.

"Thanks dad," Lena returned the smile gratefully.

"Oh it _is_ a fine name," Dana agreed, now taking the bowl of pasta from Stewart and scooping the penne onto her plate, "It's just...don't you think that maybe it's too many J names? I mean, you already had two of them."

Stef could feel Lena bristle beside her. She was pretty sure her wife was about to snap and she reached over and placed her hand on her knee, squeezing gently, before she turned her eyes towards her mother-in-law, "Actually, we're trying to be the next Duggar's. We've already filled out the paper work to change our other children's names to Jandon, Jallie, and Jariana. Now we just need to find ourselves about a dozen more children and we'll be set."

Stef's words had their desired effect, as Lena nearly choked on her water, laughing beside her, everyone else, even Dana, following suit.

As the laughter died down, Dana held up her hand, "Okay, point taken. And, for the record, Jacob really _is_ a lovely name, Lena. A good _strong_ name," she looked over at Callie then, smiling affectionately across the table at her granddaughter.

Callie ducked her head, looking down at her plate but the small smile on her face revealed that she was, in fact, pleased.

When everyone had finished scooping food onto their plates, Stewart picked up his glass and cleared his throat, "Can I make a toast before we eat?" He waited for everyone to pick up their glasses too before he continued, "To my newest grandson Jacob. And to my other grandchildren, Brandon, Callie, Jesus, Mariana, and Jude. I'm so happy to get to be your grandfather. And to my beautiful daughter, Lena, and my equally beautiful daughter-in-law, Stef, thank you so much for bringing these wonderful children into all of our lives."

"Hear-hear," Sharon nodded her agreement, the first to reach over and clink glasses with Stewart.

Once everyone had set their glasses back down, there was relative silence as they started eating.

After several minutes of the only noise being the scrapping of forks and knives against plates, Jesus spoke, asking, "Hey Jandon, will you pass the Ketchup?"

* * *

Two days later they had Callie's remission party. Sharon, Dana, Mariana, and Jude – with help from Jesus, Brandon, and Stewart – had transformed the backyard. There were paper lanterns strung all around and both a food table and a make-shift tiki bar set up.

Sharon was manning the bar, where she was making slushy drinks - similar to the ones Lena, Stef and Callie had had at the remission-day lunch - for everyone, complete with fancy umbrellas and all. Stewart and Mike were sharing barbequing responsibilities, standing around the grill, where Shish Kabobs, hamburgers, and hot dogs were on the menu. A number of different salads had also been made and dessert would be cupcakes – a throwback to the beautifully decorated cupcakes that they'd had for lunch during Callie's last chemo treatment. In planning the menu, Sharon had asked Callie what she wanted to eat and Callie had laughed gleefully when she realized that she actually _wanted _something specific. She'd completely forgotten what it was like to actually crave food.

There was a good sized crowd in the backyard, including Wyatt, who had returned from Indiana for school, Rita, and the girls' from Girls United. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves – no one, though, more than Callie. Callie practically bounced from person to person, a smile permanently plastered on her face.

After everyone had eaten, Stef and Lena finally managed to snag Callie alone, dragging her over to the porch swing and sitting down on either side of her.

"Having fun, sweetheart?" Lena asked, smiling at her daughter.

"Yes," Callie smiled widely, "Thanks for having this party."

Stef smiled too, kissing the side of Callie's head as she whispered, "No thanks needed." Pulling back, she bent down, reaching under the porch swing and grabbing the small gift bag that she'd set under there earlier. "Open this," she said as she handed it to Callie.

"But you already bought me a birthday gift," Callie blinked confused at the bag that Stef put in her hands. It had been a _really _expensive birthday gift and she'd just assumed it was her 'you finished chemo' gift as well.

Stef shook her head, reaching over and tapping Callie's knee, "I thought we already went over this the other day sweets. Remissions and birthdays aren't the same thing. Yes we did get you a birthday gift. And now we're giving you your remission gift."

"O-okay," Callie nodded. She paused a minute before she slowly, carefully, pulled the tissue paper out of the bag. She reached in and pulled out the contents – a square velvet box, the kind that usually held jewelry of some kind. She ran her fingers over the top of the velvet box before she opened it, peering down at the delicate silver bracelet it contained, not saying anything.

"Do you like it?" Lena asked, hesitant, "Because if you don't, we'll take you and let you pick out something different…something you'll wear…"

"No…" Callie shook her head, interrupting, "It's…beautiful." She tore her eyes away from the bracelet and looked over at Lena, her eyes shimmering, "Thank you."

"You are most welcome sweetheart," Lena smiled softly, reaching over to brush her hand against Callie's shoulder, asking, "Can I help you put it on?"

Callie nodded, letting Lena take the bracelet out of the box and secure the clasp around her wrist. Once it was on, she fiddled with the bracelet, gingerly touching one of small spheres that were connected by the chain.

Watching Callie, Stef explained, "There are twelve of them. One for each chemo treatment."

Callie's eyes met Stef's as she swallowed thickly. Sometimes her moms' thoughtfulness still caught her off-guard even though, by now, she knew it shouldn't. The fact that they had put so much thought into this gift, well, it meant more to her than the gift itself. "That's…it's perfect. Thanks."

Stef nodded, reaching up and running her hand over the soft down on top of Callie's head, "We love you so much sweets. So so much."

"I love you too," Callie hummed, smiling as she was crushed in a mama-sandwich. She was pretty sure this was the happiest she'd ever felt in her entire life. It was an amazing soaring feeling.

* * *

The night of the remission party, Callie went to bed happy and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

She woke up at 3am covered in a cold sweat. She rolled over onto her back, squinting through the darkness up at the ceiling as she listened for sounds. She expected to hear the baby crying but, besides Mariana's soft breathing from the bed beside hers, the house was eerily silent, leaving too much room for echoes of the dream – the _nightmare_ – that had woken her to reverberate through her brain. She shuddered in the dark as a flash of the much too realistic dream came back to her – Dr. Lawson standing in front of her, a single word dying on his lips,_ Relapse_.

She closed her eyes and tried to push the thought of relapse away, tried to remind herself that it was _just_ a dream, tried to calm her erratically beating heart, tried to will herself back to sleep. Unsuccessful, eventually she blinked her eyes back open, staring back up at the ceiling.

_This was the good life…wasn't it?_


	3. Chapter 2: Flip the Switch

_**Chapter 2: Flip the Switch, Where's the Light?**_

Five nights after Callie's remission party and four nights after all three grandparents had ventured back to their own homes, Lena suggested that they play a game after dinner. Although levels of enthusiasm for the idea originally ranged drastically between her children –with Jude beyond excited and Jesus grumbling that he wanted to go skateboarding instead – they were now half way through a game of Yahtzee and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Things were getting heated, not that Lena was really surprised – no one was more competitive than her wife and it seemed that her children relished nothing more than beating their mother.

Jesus rolled the dice, staring down at the five fours on the table before throwing his hands in the air, "Yahtzee! That's right people, I kick a…" he started but seeing the look his mom shot him he quickly amended, "…butt at this game! I'm definitely going to win."

Callie laughed at her brother, taking the dice and the cup that he handed her, and half-listening as Stef, Mariana, Jude and Brandon all took turns disputing his last statement, claiming, instead, that _they_ were going to be the winners. While her family bantered, she shook the dice around the cup a few times and dumped them onto the table, staring at them perplexed a moment before she found a pair. She nudged two threes over to the side and returned the other dice to the cup. She rolled twice more and finished with three threes. She grabbed her score card intent on writing the total down but her hand stopped midair, the pen hovering over the card, as she frowned.

From across the table Lena noticed the frown and her heart sank, guessing what Callie had done. "Just restart Callie," she offered gently, her words catching everyone's attention, the bantering quickly dying down as all eyes turned towards Callie.

From beside her, Stef peered over at Callie's score card, confirming that Lena's assumption was indeed correct. Sure enough, there was already a score in the threes row on the score card. It was the second time in the short game that Callie had made the same mistake, rolling for something she'd already completed, and Stef's heart ached a bit. Game night was supposed to be fun but she worried that her daughter wasn't having any.

Callie sighed, shaking her head, "No, it's okay." _How could she be so dumb? _Yahtzee was basically the easiest game to play ever and screwing up not once but twice was a mixture of embarrassing and aggravating. Rolling again would only be _more_ embarrassing. She wasn't some little kid, she didn't need, or want, special rules. _Stupid chemo brain_.

"You _should _re-roll," Brandon told her, agreeing with Lena's previous suggestion.

"_No_," Callie shook her head more vehemently, an edge to her voice this time.

Hearing the edge in Callie's voice, Stef reached over and rubbed the back of her hand soothingly, hoping that would calm her down.

Callie let Stef rub her hand a few seconds, taking a deep breath, before she pulled her hand away from her mom and reached for the dice, scooping them up and depositing them back in the cup. She held the cup out for Stef to take, explaining, "I'm just going to scratch off my Yahtzee, I probably wasn't going to get that anyway."

Stef watched Callie carefully for a long moment before she nodded slowly, taking the offered cup, accepting that this was what Callie needed. Wanting to change everyone's focus from Callie, she turned her gaze towards Jesus as she shook the dice around the cup, "Watch carefully son. This is the part where you lose." When she dumped the contents of the cup onto the table, however, the terrible combination of die staring back at her – two ones, a two, a three, and a six – left much to be desired.

"Good luck with that," Jesus laughed loudly.

Everyone else, including Callie, laughed too.

* * *

Later that night, with Lena standing beside her holding Jacob, Stef knocked lightly on the doorframe to Callie and Mariana's room, poking her head into the room. "Can we come in?"

"Sure," Mariana shrugged, glancing up as she flipped to the next page of her magazine.

Callie nodded her agreement but didn't look up from her phone.

"What's up?" Mariana asked as her moms took a few steps into the room.

Stef smiled at Mariana, "Actually, Miss Thing, would you mind if we had a few minutes alone with your sister?"

Mariana glanced over at Callie, the later having glanced up from her phone at Stef's words. Callie shrugged indifferently and Mariana nodded, getting up from her bed, "Ya, okay, I'll go downstairs."

"Wait…" Lena stopped her before she could get too far, "…could you please take Jacob?"

Mariana paused a moment before she nodded and stepped closer to Lena, carefully taking the baby from her mom, kissing the top of his head before she walked out of the room with him.

Stef watched Mariana leave the room before she turned her sights on her eldest daughter. Callie had deposited her phone on her nightstand and had adjusted her position on the bed, now sitting cross legged with her back to the wall, clearly preparing herself for whatever it was her moms wanted to talk about.

Stef and Lena moved simultaneously over to Callie's bed, taking a seat on either side of her.

"So…what's up?" Callie asked quietly, biting her lip. She wondered what was so important that they wanted to talk to her without Mariana.

Stef reached over and grabbed Callie's hand, squeezing it tightly to reassure her, "We just wanted to talk to you about school."

"You know summer vacation is almost over. School starts again on Monday," Lena picked up from Stef, "And we…"

"I want to go," Callie interrupted, her words firm.

Stef almost chuckled at Callie's eagerness. This reaction was exactly what she expected from her daughter. "I thought you might say that ..." She rubbed the back of Callie's hand with her thumb, "…but we're not really sure you're ready yet."

"I want to go," Callie repeated.

Stef sighed softly, "Sweets, you're still napping every day, and…" she paused, not really sure she should bring up Callie's failed attempts at playing Yahtzee.

"And a school day is long and requires a lot of focus," Lena said softly, reaching her hand over and settling it on Callie's knee.

"I want to go," Callie repeated a third time, her voice wavering ever so slightly this time. She knew her ability to focus wasn't great and that she was still tired but she didn't want to sit around this house while her siblings went back to school. She was in remission and that meant she was supposed to be moving on. She was supposed to be putting cancer behind her. _How could she do that if she wasn't allowed to do normal things, like go to school?_

Stef watched Callie carefully for several long minutes, squeezing her hand, "Are you really sure that's what you want?" They'd discussed it before coming in here to talk to Callie and, although they'd both agreed that they would prefer that Callie not go back yet, they'd also agreed that they would let her make the decision.

"It is…" Callie nodded, wide eyes searching Stef's a moment before she tried to explain why this was so important to her, "I just really want…I want to flip the switch and get back to life, you know? I_ have_ to go to school." And that was really how she felt, like she _had _to go, like if she didn't go back to school, she might go crazy. She really hoped that her moms would understand or that, at least, they wouldn't say no.

Stef smiled gently at her. She understood wanting things to be normal again, unfortunately she wasn't convinced that anything would ever be normal again. She squeezed Callie's hand once more as she nodded, "Okay, baby."

"Really?" Callie smiled then.

"Yes," Lena confirmed, rubbing Callie's shoulder, "I already talked to Principal Sanchez about it."

Callie titled her head, biting her lip as she waited for Lena to explain further, suddenly realizing that going back to school might not be as easy as just showing up on Monday. She'd left school in a hurry near the end of the semester, not finishing any of her classes, so she wasn't sure if they would even let her start her senior year.

"We decided that you finished enough of your classes last year that it shouldn't stop you from being able to take the senior ones. Most of those classes aren't actually prerequisite for this year's classes, not in the sense of actual material covered, anyways. And if there is something that you didn't learn that you need to know, in math, for instance, I'll be here to help you, as will your other teachers. You'll still have to pass the classes from last semester that you didn't finish for your transcript but Principal Sanchez agreed that you can just take the exams for those classes whenever you're ready, maybe closer to the end of the semester," Lena explained the agreement that she and Karina had come up with.

Callie listened intently as Lena spoke, nodding, relieved.

Lena watched the tension that had crept up leave Callie's shoulder, and she smiled softly at the girl, glad that she liked the solution. "It might not be easy but I promise we'll help, okay?"

"Okay," Callie smiled widely at her. They sat in silence for a few minutes before she added quietly, "Thanks…for letting me go back."

"Of course," Stef hummed, smoothing the fuzz on top of Callie's head with her hand, before planting a kiss there, "But, sweets, you have to promise us something. Mama won't be at school to look out for you at first, so if you're ever not feeling well, if you're too tired, or you just need a break, promise you'll call one of us. Immediately."

Callie leaned into Stef's side, dropping her head on Stef's shoulder, yawning, "I promise."

* * *

The night before the first day of school, Callie stood beside Mariana in the bathroom, brushing her teeth slowly and staring at herself in the mirror.

She was wearing a V-neck pajama top and she could see the bump caused by the port under skin. With her free hand, she reached up and with the tips of her fingers gingerly touched the tube that snaked up away from the bump towards her neck, immediately withdrawing her hand at the sensation. No matter how many times she freaked herself out touching it, she just couldn't seem to remember not to do it.

Shuddering ever so slightly, she went back to staring at herself in the mirror. Her eyebrows had finally started growing back that week but they were so short that she thought it kind of just looked like there were shadows over her eyes. Her hair wasn't much better. Sure she had a ton of it compared to the none she'd had a month ago but it was still shorter than Jude's hair had been that time one of their foster parents had insisted that he keep it buzzed. She sighed as she spit toothpaste into the sink, mumbling, "I wish I had wig".

Mariana put her own toothbrush away as she asked, "Why? Your hair is growing back." She was genuinely curious. The idea that Callie would want a wig now didn't make much sense to her given that she hadn't wanted one when she was going through chemo, when she'd actually been bald.

Callie rinsed her mouth with tap water, spitting the liquid into the sink and wiping her mouth, before she shrugged, glancing over at Mariana, "I don't know…" When Mariana quirked an eyebrow at her, the simple action suggesting that she wasn't going to accept that as an answer, Callie sighed, "It's just…my hair looks ridiculous."

"No, it doesn't," Mariana responded immediately.

"Come on Mariana," Callie rolled her eyes. It was nice of her sister to try and make her feel better about her hair but Callie didn't actually believe that Mariana thought it didn't look ridiculous.

"It's hair, isn't it?" Mariana tried a different approach, undeterred by Callie's eye roll, "Plus, didn't you just tell me like three weeks ago that you would be bald forever if you could just have your eyelashes and nose hair back?" Mariana scrunched up her nose as she said nose hair. Callie had explained to her the necessity of nose hair but Mariana still couldn't really picture missing something so gross.

Callie laughed. She _had_ said that. She'd never understood how important eyelashes and nose hair were until she didn't have any – she was so tired of being blinded by water every time she wanted to have a shower and her nose constantly running was beyond annoying. Thankfully both her eyelashes and her nose hair had finally started to grow back along with her eyebrows, so she was pretty hopeful that she would be able to have a shower where she wasn't standing as far as humanly possibly away from the water spray sometime soon.

"Was that a yes or a no?" Mariana smirked when Callie laughed.

Callie shrugged one shoulder, "Ya, I did say that…but…" she bit her lip, ducking her head.

"But what, Cal? Tell me," Mariana urged softly now, wanting nothing more than to help.

Callie tilted her head back up, watching Mariana earnestly a minute before, finally, she explained quietly, "It's just…I still look like a cancer patient." And _that_ was the real problem, not her ridiculously short hair. When she'd been getting chemo, she'd liked being bald – well as much as a person could _like_ being bald – because it had made her feel strong but now she felt the exact opposite of strong, now she just wanted nothing more than for her hair to be long again. She was done chemo. She was in remission. She was_ supposed_ to be done with cancer but when she looked in the mirror all she saw was a cancer patient and she knew that tomorrow when she walked into school that's all anyone else would see too.

Mariana shifted, leaning against the sink as she tried to figure out what to say. Part of her wished that Callie had brought this up with one, or both, of their moms because they would be better at dealing with it. Mariana was terrified that she would say the wrong thing. She was pretty sure that saying nothing wouldn't be any better though so she took a breath, opened her mouth, and tried, "Or maybe you just look like, as Jesus would say, a badass."

Callie rubbed her face with her hand as she resisted the urge to sigh. Pulling her hand away from her face, instead, she smiled ever so slightly at Mariana, appreciating how hard her sister was trying.

Mariana could tell that her words hadn't really helped, "If you really want a wig, I'm sure moms will get you one." She still didn't _really _get why Callie would want a wig now but if it would make her feel better Mariana figured she should have one.

Callie did sigh then, "No. That would just be a waste of money. I was bald…I guess I can be…" she motioned to the top of her head with her hand, "whatever this is."

Mariana watched Callie a long minute before she nodded her head, offering, "Okay, it's up to you," with a warm smile. She waited for Callie to return the smile with a hesitant one of her one before she started to lead the way back to their room, flipping the bathroom light switch off, as she glanced over at Callie, "Just think, now you'll get to know what you look like with _every_ hair style. You'll know the_ perfect_ one for you."

"How great," Callie snorted wryly as they stepped into their bedroom.

* * *

The following morning, Brandon pulled the car into a parking spot in front of the school, smiling warmly over at Callie who was sitting in the passenger seat clutching her backpack to her chest like it was a life vest. "Ready?" He asked.

Callie swallowed thickly before nodding her head, reaching for the door handle and getting out of the car. Once she was out of the car she stopped and just stood there staring up at the building. She wasn't sure exactly why but she was suddenly really nervous.

Sensing Callie's hesitancy, Jude moved to her side and grabbed for her hand, clutching tightly as her fingers closed around his.

Jude's warm fingers in her own helped to relax Callie. Holding Jude's hand as they walked towards the school building made today just like every other first day of school that they'd ever had.

Of course, every other first day of school, she'd been the one to take his hand, she'd been the one to lead him.

* * *

The day passed in a blur and when the final bell rang she dragged her feet back to the car. She realized that she must have been walking slowly because when she made it to the vehicle all of her other siblings were already there.

"How was the rest of your day?" Brandon greeted her. They'd had all of their morning classes together, which he suspected was his mother's doing, and they'd eaten lunch together, but he was taking some classes that she wasn't so they'd been split up the rest of the afternoon.

"Okay," Callie shrugged. Not wanting to admit that it had been exhausting. She was pretty sure she didn't remember a single thing that her history teacher had said in her last class. "How were your days?" She directed her question to the rest of her siblings.

"Good," Jude grinned widely.

Jesus shrugged, "It was school. School is dumb."

Mariana rolled her eyes at him, "I bet you wouldn't say that if mom were standing here."

"You're right," Jesus nodded, "Because I'm no fool and I don't want to ever hear her lecture about the importance of education again." He winked at Callie before he declared, "Shotgun!"

Brandon shook his head, "Uh-uh, no way. Callie gets the front the seat. It's an older sibling thing."

"It's okay," Callie just shook her head, unbothered, "Go for it Jesus."

"Wait. I didn't even know the front seat was up for grabs. How is it fair that he gets to call shotgun? I want the front seat," Mariana protested.

Callie laughed, shoving Mariana's shoulder playfully, "Get in the back seat, sitting beside me won't kill you. I promise I don't smell."

* * *

In the short drive home Callie managed to fall asleep with her head resting on Mariana's shoulder.

Brandon shifted the car into park, glancing over his shoulder to the back seat, locking eyes with Mariana, and whispering, "Do we wake her?"

"Uhh…" Mariana glanced down at the top of Callie's head. They couldn't sit in here all night but at the same time she didn't really want to wake her up either, "…just go get mom."

Brandon nodded, sliding out of the car, Jude and Jesus following him into the house, where they quickly explained to Lena where Mariana and Callie were and agreed to keep an eye on Jacob while Lena went outside.

Lena approached the car slowly, carefully opening the passenger door and sliding into the seat beside Callie. She glanced around the sleeping girl to her youngest daughter, smiling softly, and whispering, "Hi sweetheart."

"Hi mama," Mariana whispered back.

Lena turned her attention to Callie, watching the sleeping girl a moment, her heart aching as she suddenly remembered the time she'd had to wake Callie when she'd fallen asleep in class. She reached her hand forward and gently rubbed Callie's shoulder, "Callie, sweetheart, you've got to wake up now."

"Mmm…" Callie mumbled, burying her head further into Mariana's shoulder.

"Callie, come on," Lena tried again, continuing to rub her shoulder.

"Mmm…" Callie blinked her eyes open, squinting at the brightness, confused, "What?"

"You fell asleep on the way home," Mariana was the one to explain.

Callie jerked her head off of Mariana's shoulder then, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand sleepily, glancing over at her sister and smiling sheepishly, "Sorry."

Mariana laughed, "You should be. I think you got droll on my new top."

Callie pulled a face, "Ugh, gross."

Lena laughed, rubbing her hand along Callie's shoulder once more, "Come on sweetheart, let's get you inside."

* * *

Despite her moms suggesting after she fell asleep in the car that she should ease more slowly back into school, Callie made it through each of the next four days without once calling home to be picked up early. It wasn't that she couldn't have gone home early any of those days – she'd certainly been tired enough – it was just that she was too stubborn to admit that maybe she hadn't been ready for school yet.

By the time Friday rolled around, Callie was beyond exhausted, maybe even more so than she'd been at the end of chemo. She'd thought getting back to her life, to _living_, would be as easy as flipping a switch but she was starting to realize that absolutely nothing was easy anymore. She wondered if anything ever would be again.

She'd flipped the switch but no light had come on. She was still standing in the dark. Worse, she wasn't sure she knew where to find a new light bulb.


	4. Chapter 3: Burning Up

A/N: I just wanted to thank each and every one of you lovely readers, your support really means more than I could ever possibly say.

Oh and, given the subject matter of this fic (and it's predecessor, Swim), I just wanted to mention that September is both Childhood Cancer Awareness Month and Blood Cancer Awareness Month!

* * *

_**Chapter 3: Burning Up**_

The next three weeks passed both slowly and quickly as Callie fell into a pattern – wake up, go to school, come home, fall asleep on the couch until dinner, eat dinner, do, or at least struggle through, homework, go to bed, wake up the next day and repeat. Some days felt impossibly long, like they might never end, especially days near the end of the week when Callie was beyond tired, but, in general, the whole period was a blur. What she did in those weeks, who she talked to, what she learned – later, looking back, she wouldn't be able to recall a single detail.

* * *

At dinner on a Thursday three weeks into the start of the school year, as everyone discussed their plans for the following day and the weekend, Lena popped her head up, glancing over at Callie, waiting for an opportunity to interject before she said, "Callie, sweetheart, you're staying home tomorrow with me and Jacob."

Callie scrunched up her brow. Her moms had made her stay home one other time since she'd started school – the Wednesday of her second week back when they'd decided, despite her protests, that she seemed too tired and needed a break. She would never admit that it had been the right decision but it definitely had been. She didn't feel _that_ tired now though, not like she had the first two weeks back anyway. "Why? I don't want to stay home. I'm fine," she protested as her siblings glanced at her curiously.

Lena shook her head at Callie's misunderstanding, "The home care nurse is coming sometime tomorrow morning to flush your port, Cal. Remember?"

Callie frowned a minute but then she sighed, nodding. _Right_. They'd called and set the appointment up weeks ago after her last appointment with her oncologist. Even though she wasn't using the port anymore, until it was removed, it still had to be cleaned regularly. She understood why it was necessary but it didn't stop it from being annoying. It was just one more thing making it hard for her to figure out how to move on. _How was she supposed to move on when there were so many things keeping her feet firmly planted in cancer land?_

Seeing Callie's frown, Stef reached over and tapped the girl's hand gently, "At least it's just this once sweets. Just think, a month from now you'll be deported."

"Deported?" Brandon was the one who asked the question, although everyone looked equally puzzled.

"Yes," Stef nodded in mock-seriousness, "Callie's port will be removed. So…she will be_ De_-_Port-Ed_," she emphasized each syllable of the word.

Everyone groaned.

"Mom, you're so corny," Mariana rolled her eyes, making herself the spokesperson for the group.

"What?" Stef shrugged, a twinkle in her eye, nudging a smiling Callie, "I thought it was hilarious."

* * *

The home care nurse showed up mid-morning the following day. Callie sat on a chair in the kitchen as the nurse got everything ready, Lena standing on the other side of the table with Jacob in her arms, far enough away to be out of the way and not posing a threat, but close enough to provide any comfort that her daughter might need. Although, truthfully, Callie didn't look nervous at all. Instead, she looked almost bored.

Callie swung her feet as she waited for the nurse to get everything laid out and ready. She was trying really hard to appear like she wasn't nervous but the truth was her stomach was fluttering. She wasn't even really sure why she felt nervous. There was no need for nervousness, she'd had her port accessed plenty of times and it wasn't even especially painful – no worse than a bee sting. She supposed that the butterflies probably had more to do with her subconscious making unnecessary associations than anything. After all, usually having her port accessed meant one thing – chemo was coming. It helped that she was sitting in her kitchen and not the cancer center but, still, in an effort to calm the fluttering, she reminded herself over and over again that she was _not_ about to get chemo.

With everything laid out and ready, the nurse turned to Callie and smiled, "Alright, all set, you ready?"

Callie glanced over at the supplies on the table, the mask the nurse would wear, the alcohol swab, the sterile paper sheet she would tuck into Callie's shirt to clear space around the port, the hooked needle, and the syringes of heparin and saline. As she glanced at the saline she suddenly frowned, wondering how she could have forgotten. "Mama?" She turned her gaze towards Lena, "Do we have candy?"

Lena's eyes widen in understanding, also wondering how she could have forgotten, "Sorry sweetheart, I forgot. I think we've got some." She moved over to the drawer where they'd kept the bag of hard candies during Callie's treatment, adjusting Jacob in her arms and pulling the drawer open, letting out a relieved breath when she found a couple of candies still in there. She scooped them up and brought them over to Callie, "Here you go, sweetheart," She planted a kiss on the top of Callie's head before she walked back to the other side of the kitchen table.

Callie clutched the candies tightly in her hand, turning her eyes back to the nurse, explaining, "Saline tastes disgusting."

The nurse laughed, nodding, "So I've been told."

Callie removed the wrapper from one of the candies and popped it into her mouth, "Okay,_ now_, I'm ready."

The nurse smiled before slipping on the mask over her mouth and nose, making quick work of accessing Callie's port, making sure there was drawback, and then administering the saline and the heparin.

Before Callie knew it, the needle was being removed from her port and being deposited into their sharps container. Hopefully, she thought as she watched the nurse put the needle into the container, that was the last needle that they would ever have to dispose of in this house.

* * *

Late Sunday night, around one, Stef flopped back against the pillows, bringing her arm up to cover her eyes, while Lena settled Jacob back into his crib.

"Remind me, how much longer before he sleeps through the night?" Stef asked, without removing her arm from her eyes. Keeping up with an infant and five teenagers was exhausting.

Lena just chuckled as she climbed back into bed.

* * *

An hour later a noise woke Stef up. She rolled over and squinted at the clock, 2 am. "We just fed you," she grumbled, half-awake and assuming that the noise that had woken her was her infant son. It took her a second to realize that Jacob wasn't actually crying. She sat up confused, frowning, her sleep-addled brain trying to figure out what was going on. She reached over and shook her sleeping wife's shoulder, "Lena?"

"Hmm…" Lena mumbled, not opening her eyes.

"Did you hear something?" Stef asked.

"Mmm…no," Lena mumbled, still not opening her eyes.

Stef sat there another second, about to lie back down, when she heard the noise again, a soft knocking on the other side of her bedroom door. _Oh_. Now she understood. Someone wanted them. She considered calling to whoever was on the other side of the door to come in, but, instead, she just got up, padding quickly to the door and pulling it open.

Callie stood on the other side of the door, barefoot, in her pajamas, staring wide-eyed at Stef and biting her lip.

"Callie?" Stef asked, scanning the girl up and down, her sleepy brain instantly coming alive, "What's the matter baby?"

"I…I'm sorry that I woke you up…but...I just…" Callie ducked her head, as she mumbled, "Do we have Tylenol? I have a fever."

Stef reached forward, putting her hand on Callie's shoulder, whispering softly, "Hey now, you're not allowed to apologize for something that we _expect_ you to do…" She smiled gently, encouragingly, when Callie looked up at her, their eyes locking. Stef was fairly certain that Callie actually coming to get her when something was wrong was some kind of miracle – a miracle that not so many months ago she never would have dreamed possible – and, so, it was important to her that she made it clear to her daughter that this was the kind of thing they expected from her, the kind of thing they _wanted _her to do.

Stef was about to continue when Lena appeared at her side, glancing curiously at Callie, "What's going on?"

"Callie's got a fever," Stef explained.

Lena frowned, reaching forward and putting her hand on Callie's forehead, immediately withdrawing it, the heat radiating off of her daughter's skin shocking her, "Baby, you're burning up."

Callie shrugged.

Stef reached for Callie's hand, tugging gently on it, pulling her into their bedroom, "Go sit on the bed, sweets. I'm going to get the thermometer, I want to check it."

"I already did," Callie mumbled, letting Stef direct her towards the bed and climbing up.

"Okay," Stef eyed her, before she added, "You checked recently?" She wanted to confirm both that the number was current and that Callie hadn't been sitting in her room with a fever for hours.

Callie nodded, "Just before I came to get you."

Stef nodded too, "How high?"

"102.5," Callie stated the number that had flashed angrily at her in red when she'd checked her temperature in the bathroom.

It was high, too high, but not emergency room high. Stef glanced over at Lena, wanting to confirm that her wife agreed. In the dark she was pretty sure she could see a frown on Lena's face.

Lena moved and flipped the bedroom light on, her gaze drifting momentarily to the baby's crib but he didn't even stir. She moved back towards the bed, climbing up beside Callie, "Besides the fever how do you feel? Is your throat sore? Are you in pain?"

Callie shook her head, "Just cold." As if in proof, she shivered.

Lena nodded but she was still frowning ever so slightly. "Can I just check your port site?"

At Lena's words, Stef's eyes widened. She almost slapped her forehead. _Why hadn't she thought of that?_ If Callie had a port infection they would definitely need to go the emergency room.

Lena carefully pulled Callie's pajamas top over to the side, breathing a sigh of relief as she checked the port site – it wasn't red or swollen and it was only hot to the touch because of Callie's fever. She glanced over her shoulder at Stef, shaking her head at her wife, indicating that it was fine.

Stef had brought clasped hands up to cover her mouth, waiting worriedly while Lena checked Callie over. When Lena gave her the signal that everything was fine she dropped her hands in relief. She wondered if illnesses involving Callie would always cause this flutter of panic. "Okay, I'm going to get the Tylenol. Do you need anything else, love?" She asked Callie, watching her carefully.

Callie just shook her head.

* * *

After they gave her the Tylenol, Callie fell back asleep, snuggled into Stef's side. In the morning, Stef carefully extracted herself from the hold her sleeping child had on her, tiptoeing out of the room and into the living room, where Lena had taken Jacob to feed him, both not wanting to wake Callie and wanting to keep him away from any germs that Callie might have.

"Morning," Stef greeted.

"Morning," Lena returned the greeting, glancing up at her wife, "Callie still sleeping?"

"Yes," Stef nodded, taking a seat beside Lena on the couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table, before asking, "What are we going to do with her?"

"Well, for starters, she's staying home with me…" Lena hummed, moving Jacob onto her shoulder as he finished feeding, rubbing his back gently. Seeing the concerned look on Stef's face, she sighed softly, "Hun, she probably just picked something up at school. I'm going to call Dr. Malik this morning and see what he thinks."

* * *

Dr. Malik, Callie's GP, reacted completely differently than Lena expected. Instead of suggesting that they monitor her for a few days to see if the fever went away on its own, or even suggesting that they bring her in so that he could check her over, he urged Lena to call Callie's oncologist and talk it over with him.

Lena tried not to panic while she waited for a return call from the cancer center but she couldn't really help the way she fluttered nervously all morning. She choose not to mention the call with Dr. Malik to Callie, who had woken up after her siblings had gone to school and had moved from the master bedroom down to the living room couch, where she was now curled up with a warm blanket, shivering.

It took April, Callie's oncology nurse, several hours to return Lena's call, her reaction, however, calmed Lena instantly. April reassured Lena that if there was no redness or swelling around Callie's port site it was highly doubtful that she had an infection and that, since she was two months out from chemo now, having a fever didn't pose any threat out of the ordinary. They should treat this illness the same way they would have treated it _before _Callie got cancer.

After she hung up the phone, Lena stood staring out the kitchen window, wondering if it would_ ever_ be possible to treat anything related to Callie the same as they had before the cancer. It certainly seemed like the kind of thing that was much easier said than done. Heck, even Dr. Malik had reacted differently than he would have reacted if she'd called about Brandon.

Maybe someday things would be normal again. Or maybe, more likely, they would just have to re-define normal. It wouldn't be the first time.

* * *

It took two days but Callie's fever eventually broke. It was her first, but certainly not her last, post-chemo sickness.

Three weeks later, on a Tuesday, a week before her scheduled de-portation, Callie started to cough. The cough was loud and hacking and chillingly reminiscent of _the_ cough, the one that had started everything. Where 10 months prior her coughing had been met with teasing and jokes about the plague and cats coughing up fur balls, now the cough elicited nothing but concerned stares.

It started at school after lunch and by the time the final bell rang she was practically running out of the building. She couldn't stand the way that everyone was looking at her or the way Wyatt had leaned across the aisle and asked with wide eyes if she was okay.

Of course, things weren't much better on the car ride home. While her classmates had stared at her mostly with a mixture of confusion and curiosity, the way her siblings were looking at her was more akin to horror. If they wanted to ask her about it though, they didn't.

At home, her moms were worse than her classmates and her siblings combined. She'd been in the house all of three minutes before Stef was standing in front of her, checking her temperature with the back of her hand, demanding to know when the cough had started, how she felt, and if there were any other symptoms. In the kitchen, where she was making dinner, Lena repeated the exact same questions.

Callie had no fever, no other symptoms, and she felt fine. It was_ just_ a cough.

* * *

Before bed that night Callie stood alone in the bathroom staring at herself in the mirror, slowly bringing her hand up to ghost across that place just above her left collarbone. There was scar tissue there, a raised bump that the chemo hadn't quite flattened out completely, and she felt it now with the pad of her fingers. _How big had been before? Was it bigger now?_ She gnawed on her lip. She didn't _think_ it was bigger. She wasn't sure though.

* * *

Down the hall, Jude stood in the doorway of the master bedroom, his toes just edging into the room.

"Jude?" Lena called softly, spotting her son in the doorway, "You can come in here, you know, buddy."

Jude shuffled slowly into the room, stopping at the foot of the bed, glancing slowly up from the ground and at his moms, "Umm…I just…I wanted to know…is Callie okay?" He rushed those last three words out, his eyes wide and terrified.

Lena patted the bed, "Come here buddy." She waited for Jude to climb up between her and Stef, before she wrapped both of her arms around him, pulling him against her side, and then reaching up with one hand to smooth his hair, "I know Callie having a cough is scary. And it's _okay_ to be worried and scared sometimes. But bud, what we have to remember is that Callie is going to get sick the same way that we _all _get sick sometimes. And, actually, at least for a while, her doctors told us that Callie will probably get sick _more_ often than usual. We're going to have to try and not be scared every time it happens."

Jude seemed to consider that a minute, before he glanced up at Lena, "So…it's going to get better?"

Lena continued to run her hand through Jude's hair, "If the cough lasts more than a day, I promise we will take your sister to see the doctor. I promise we'll take care of it." There was a fine line between reassuring Jude and lying to him and Lena walked it carefully. The truth was that a cough _could_ be just a cough, in fact, a cough was _more than likely _just a cough, but, a cough could also be something else. Although she would never suggest to Jude, or any of her children, that Callie's cough could be anything other than a cough, she was also careful not to promise that Callie would be fine. She never wanted to make promises that she couldn't keep and she had no guarantees that Callie, that any of them really, would be healthy indefinitely.

Jude seemed reassured by her words and he nodded, "Okay."

Stef smiled gently at him then, reaching over and patting his knee reassuringly.

A couple of minutes later, Mariana poked her head around the doorway and, seeing that only Jude and her moms were in there, she walked into the room.

"Let me guess," Stef eyed the girl, "You're worried about Callie too?"

Mariana bit the inside of her cheek, glancing down, before she nodded slowly.

"Come here Miss Thing," Stef urged, shuffling over on the bed, squishing Jude even closer to Lena and making just enough room for Mariana to climb up beside her. As soon as she did, Stef wrapped her arm around the girl's shoulder and pulled her close, kissing her hair.

* * *

As Lena had told Jude they would, they waited one day to see if Callie's cough would go away on its own, and, when it didn't, they made an appointment to take her to see Dr. Malik.

Stef took the day off of work to bring Callie to the GP so that Lena wouldn't have to lug Jacob around. Callie was the first patient the doctor saw that day and the serious expression on his face while he examined her, terrified Stef.

"Well…" Dr. Malik started, putting his stethoscope back around his neck, "Your lungs don't sound bad."

"That's good right?" Stef asked hopefully, draping her arm around Callie's shoulder as the girl shuffled away from the doctor and over towards her.

Dr. Malik nodded, although his expression suggested that he wasn't sure. "When did you say you're having the port taken out?"

"Next week," Callie answered.

Dr. Malik rubbed his forehead, "Okay, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to prescribe you a couple of puffers that should help with the cough. And I want you to go and get some blood work and a chest x-ray done."

"Okay," Stef was the one to answer, while Callie just stood beside her frozen, her breathing coming in strange puffs.

* * *

The stopped at the pharmacy and filled the prescription for the puffers before they headed over to the clinic that did both blood work and chest x-rays.

They went to have the blood work done first. The clinic wasn't equipped to use Callie's port, so she had to have the blood drawn, as she called it, the old fashioned way. Stef had been hopeful that in the months since Callie's port had been inserted that her veins would have remembered how to be veins but when Callie walked back towards her with not one, not two, but three, cotton swabs tapped in place on her arms, it was clear that that wasn't the case.

They moved next to the x-ray waiting room, where Callie sat bouncing her leg anxiously waiting to be called.

Stef didn't say a word, she just reached for Callie's hand and squeezed it tightly in her own, trying to convey as much love and strength as she could between their joined palms.

* * *

When they finally called Callie back for the x-ray, Stef gave Callie's hand a final squeeze before letting go so that Callie could follow the x-ray technician out of the room.

When Callie finally disappeared completely from site, Stef rubbed at her face with her hand, taking a couple of shaky breaths, trying, mostly unsuccessfully, to calm herself, before she pulled out her cellphone to call Lena and let her know what was going on.

* * *

In a blue hospital gown, Callie stood in front of the x-ray machine, trying to think about anything other than what was happening.

X-rays were much more straightforward than CT scans or PET scans and within minutes the technician had taken both of the shots that she needed – one from the front and the other from the side. She told Callie to wait a minute while she checked and made sure that they didn't need to do any retakes.

Callie wrapped her arms around herself while she waited, swaying nervously. Her breaths were coming out funny, her head felt cloudy, and her thoughts were much too loud, she could practically feel them bouncing around the inside of her head. It felt the way she imagined burning up from the inside out felt like. It felt like maybe the x-ray technician would come back and all that would be left was a pile of ashes. It was a horrible feeling and she wanted nothing more to run from this building.

After what felt like hours, but was realistically only minutes, the x-ray technician came back into the room. She eyed Callie a second before she asked, "Do you have a central line?"

Callie was startled by the question. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting the x-ray technician to say but it wasn't that. "Yes," she nodded slowly, "a port." She brought her hand up to touch it, indicating where it was.

The x-ray technician nodded, smiling at her then, "Okay, we saw it on the x-ray, I just wanted to confirm."

_What else did you see?_ Callie's thoughts screamed but she remained silent.

"Okay then, we've got what we need. You can go ahead and get changed and go home. The results will be sent to your doctor," the x-ray technician told her.

_Go home_. Yes, that was exactly where Callie needed to go, where she needed to be. Home. Far far away from medical equipment.

* * *

Back at home, Stef left Callie on the couch with the excuse that she was going to find Lena to let her know that they were home. She walked quickly up the stairs, striding down the hall and into the master bedroom, shutting the door behind her. It wasn't until the door was closed that she even looked around the room.

Lena was standing by the change table, just finishing doing up the snaps on Jacob's onesie. She picked him up as she glanced puzzled over at her wife, "Stef?"

Stef moved over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and dropping her head into her hands.

Lena frowned, placing Jacob in his crib before she turned back to Stef, "Where is Callie?"

Stef looked up at Lena through her hands, "Downstairs."

"You're scaring me, Stef. What's going on?" Lena was still frowning as she took a seat beside Stef on the bed.

"I'm sorry," Stef sighed, pulling her hands away from her face and glancing over at Lena, "Nothing is going on...nothing new since I called you, anyway. She just had the x-ray done. Now we just have to wait for results."

Lena reached for Stef's hands, frowning as she linked their fingers, "Babe, you're shaking."

Stef bit her lip as she took a deep, shaky breath, "I don't think I've ever been so terrified in my entire life Lena."

Lena nodded, understanding wholeheartedly, saying nothing, just reaching up and tenderly tucking a piece of Stef's hair behind her ear.

Stef watched Lena a long minute, exchanging a novels worth of words with their eyes alone, before she whispered broken words, "What are we going to do if…" she couldn't even finish the thought.

Lena sucked in a breath, as if bracing herself, before she said with as much certainty as she could muster, "Then we'll figure it out. We will." She didn't know how they would cope if Callie relapsed but she knew that they would – what other choice would they have?

"Okay," Stef nodded her head, although the word sounded more pained than anything, "okay."

"We will," Lena repeated as she reached over and pulled Stef towards her, wrapping her arms tightly around her wife and burying her head in her neck. "We will," she repeated a third time, this time the words clearly meant to not only reassure Stef but herself.

Stef held Lena tightly for several minutes, the embrace helping to calm her erratically beating heart and racing thoughts. It wasn't until Jacob gurgled from his crib that she pulled back, wiping at her face with the back of her hand, "We should…we should go downstairs. I just needed a minute. I don't want her to be alone long."

Lena nodded, remaining seated a moment, collecting herself, while Stef stood and pulled Jacob out of the crib, cooing down at him, "Hi little man."

Lena smiled watching her wife with their son, standing then and following Stef down the stairs towards their daughter.

* * *

In the living room they found Callie sitting motionless in the center of the couch, staring at, but not really watching, the TV. She barely blinked when Stef crossed in front of her to deposit Jacob into his swinging chair, not moving until Lena took a seat beside her.

"Hi sweetheart," Lena whispered softly, reaching over and brushing her hand along Callie's shoulder as the girl turned to face her.

"Hi mama," Callie whispered back.

"How are you feeling?" Lena asked, her brown eyes searching Callie's for some sign of what her daughter might be thinking.

Callie shrugged before she brought her arm up coughing into the crook of her arm, the force shaking her entire body.

"Oh, baby," Stef hummed sympathetically, dropping down onto the couch, taking a seat on Callie's other side, and immediately bringing her hand up to rub the girl's back.

As the cough subsided, Callie closed her eyes, swallowing thickly. When she blinked them back open, Lena was staring at her concerned and she could practically feel Stef's eyes boring into the back of her head.

"Do you need something? Water maybe?" Lena asked softly.

_Did she need something?_ Callie blinked slowly. What she _needed _was for the doctor to call now with the chest x-ray results. What she_ needed_ was for her brain to shut up. What she_ needed_ was to be able to stop thinking about relapse. What she _needed_ was to not be relapsing. But those weren't things that her moms could give her, so slowly she shook her head, no, she didn't need anything.

Lena watched Callie carefully, the way her daughter's eyes glazed over scaring her just a bit. She shared a concerned look with Stef before she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Callie, pulling her daughter tightly against her much like she had with Stef upstairs. It was a relatively short hug, one that she ended with a kiss to the top of Callie's head, but it conveyed all of her love – the only thing she could really think to offer under the circumstances. She considered telling Callie that it would be okay but, even in her head, those words sounded phony. After all, it very well might not be okay.

Callie smiled ever so slightly as she pulled back from the hug, always amazed by how much her moms could make her feel loved just through actions. She repositioned herself on the couch, nestling into the cushions as she coughed again.

Stef reached up and ran her hand across the top of Callie's head, the softness of the inch-long hair never ceasing to amaze her. She waited for the latest coughing fit to subside before she murmured, still running her hand slowly over Callie's hair, "We can do whatever you want. Watch a movie. Something else. Whatever you want. We're right here, okay?" She might be asking Callie what she wanted to do while they were waiting but she was saying so much more. She was saying that they were right here, by her side, and they weren't going anywhere. No matter what the doctor called to say.

Callie nodded, closing her eyes as Stef continued to rub her head, "Okay."

* * *

They put a movie on but, if asked, Callie couldn't have named a single one of the main characters, let alone identified any plot point. Instead, she sat there with the same thoughts running through her head, on repeat.

_Am I relapsing?_

_Stop it. It's just a cough. People get coughs all of the time._

_But…what if it's not just a cough. What if I'm relapsing? What then? How will I tell Jude? How will Mariana react? Jesus? Brandon? What about Wyatt, Daphne…what am I going to say to them? So here's some news you might be interested in…there's like a 40% chance you're never gonna see me again? _

_Stop there. You're not relapsing. It's only a cough. The lymph nodes in your neck aren't even swollen. Remember? You checked. A lot. There's just the scar tissue there. It's not bigger. Probably not, anyway._

_It might be bigger. Like, how do you know it's not? You're not your oncologist. And what if the chest x-ray shows…stuff. What then? How horrible will treatment be this time? Stem cell transplants can't be fun. And then…what if…it doesn't work? What if you…die. _

_STOP! You're being crazy._

Over and over and over again she went. Like a broken record.

It felt like the walls were closing in around her, it was the same burning up feeling from the x-ray clinic. The only thing keeping her grounded was the arm that Stef had casually draped around her shoulder ten minutes into the movie and Lena's warm hand holding hers.

* * *

About forty minutes into the movie that Callie wasn't watching and in the middle of her latest relapse related thought, Jacob, who had been strangely quiet up to that point, as if somehow sensing the seriousness in the room, started to cry from his swinging chair.

Before either Stef or Lena could move, Callie had shrugged out from under Stef's arm, let go of Lena's hand, and bounded over to where Jacob was lying. She reached down and gently scooped him out of the chair, bouncing him lightly as she walked back towards the couch, "What's a matter Jake-y Jake? Were you tired of being over there all by yourself? Huh? Was that it buddy?" She smiled softly down at the baby, his cries subsiding before they had even made it back to the couch.

Lena and Stef smiled at each other as Callie nestled back between them on the couch, lying Jacob down on her lap so that he was facing her, his little feet instantly kicking out, connecting with her stomach, his arms waving urgently, gurgling, as she cooed down at him, "Calm yourself, silly boy. It's not _that _exciting over here. You just wait and see. We're _really _boring."

"Hey, speak for yourself," Stef nudged her shoulder, as she reached over and rubbed Jacob's stomach, "I'm fun and not boring at all, don't listen to these lies your sister is telling you."

Callie laughed as Jacob flailed his arms another minute, finally seeming to get tired, and dropping them back to his side. Callie smiled softly down at him, reaching forward and tracing a finger down his arms, stopping near his hand, letting him wrap all of his fingers around that single one of hers. "Whoa buddy. You're so strong. Are you trying to squeeze my finger off?" She kidded softly.

Jacob smiled his sweet baby smile up at her at the sound of her voice.

Lena reached over and ran her hand gently over Jacob's head, "You're so good with him Cal. Look at him smiling for you."

Callie didn't look away from Jacob, but she smiled just a little bit wider at her mom's words, before she shrugged one shoulder, not wanting to seem too pleased by the praise.

Callie stared down at Jacob another minute before the scratching at the back of her throat became more than an annoyance and something that she knew she had to deal with. "Can you take him mama?" Callie asked quietly, glancing over at Lena.

Lena looked curiously over at her daughter, slightly confused by the request but nodding immediately, reaching over and scooping Jacob up off of Callie's lap, bringing him up to rest against her shoulder, smiling as he snuggled into her.

With Jacob off of her lap and a safe distance away, Callie brought her arm up, covering her mouth with the back of her arm and turning her body so that she was facing away from Lena and Jacob before she let the cough that had been building up out. As she coughed a fourth and final time, she let out a breath with a sigh. Jacob had distracted her momentarily from the incessant dialogue in her head but the cough had brought the pressing question back to the front of her mind. _Am I relapsing?_

* * *

It was another half an hour before the phone finally rang.

Stef practically dove for it and then, realizing what she'd done, she paused a moment, letting the phone ring twice more before she picked it up, "Hello?"

From the couch, Callie sat, barely breathing, as she listened to Stef's side of the conversation, which consisted of mostly, "Mmhms" and, "Okays".

As minutes dragged on Callie stopped being able to even hear Stef's side of the conversation, waves of sound rushing past her ears, making no sense at all.

Finally, after what felt like forever, and just when Callie was starting to worry that maybe she was going to pass out, Stef hung up the phone, turning to face her and Lena, "The chest x-ray was clean."

At first Callie didn't really comprehend her mom's words. It took seeing the smile on her mama's face for them to make any sense what-so-ever. Still, she stuttered, her breathing uneven, "C-clean?"

Stef nodded, "It's _just_ a cough."

_Clean. Just a cough_. Callie sat in stunned silence, her heart beating erratically. _She wasn't relapsing_. _She wasn't relapsing. _

Stef walked over to the couch, reaching down and grabbing Callie's hands and pulling her up off the couch and into a crushing hug. Feeling the girl's hands clawing, almost desperately, at her back, she whispered into her ear, "Sshh…you're okay, baby. It's just a cough, it's just a cough, you're okay. I've got you."


	5. Chapter 4: Frustration

A/N: Well...it's been awhile. I wish I had a real good reason for my prolonged absence but the truth is just that I've just been busy and, also, I needed a break. I'm not sure how long it will take for the next update to come but, what I can say, is that there are only two to three chapters left of this fic and I do have full intentions of finishing it. :)

_**Chapter 4: Frustration**_

Puffers took care of the cough, allowing the de-portation to get done on schedule. The procedure to remove the port, which was even simpler than the procedure required for its insertion, went smoothly enough, with the only real hitch being starting an IV. That day, leaving the hospital with one more reminder of her cancer removed, Callie thought that maybe, just maybe, she was finally on her way to actually putting the experience behind her.

* * *

A few weeks after the de-portation, Mariana, Callie, and Jesús took a trip to the park.

Entering the park, Callie was pleased to find that she'd managed to walk the entire way there without needing to stop once and, even better, she hardly felt out of breath at all. That realization brought a smile to her face and added a bounce to her step as they headed towards the tree that, after a number of trips to this place, she'd started to think of as _theirs_.

She probably wouldn't have taken note of the two boys, who were probably a few years younger than Jude, passing the soccer ball back and forth but the way they stopped playing, abjectly staring as Callie and her siblings approached, drew her eyes in their direction. She wasn't particularly surprised by the stares – she'd certainly gotten enough of them from the young and old alike since the day she'd decided to shave her head (and if she was being honest, the stares had started earlier than that) – but she had sort of hoped that now that her hair was about an inch long, and completely covering her head, that the stares would be a thing of the past. This wasn't the first time that she'd realized that that clearly that wasn't the case though and she tried not to let it bother her too much, continuing to follow Mariana and Jesús towards their tree, intent on ignoring the boys all together.

As they walked right passed the duo, one of the boys turned to the other and whispered loudly, "Is that a boy or a girl?"

Callie could feel herself flush embarrassed at the loud question but she was still intent on ignoring them and making it to the tree but it seemed her siblings had other plans.

Mariana stopped dead in her tracks and Jesús followed suite, whipping his head around and glaring in the direction of the boys, his hands clenching into fists, as he growled loudly, "_That _is my sister and _her_ hair is short because she was _sick_. So just…"

"_Jesús_," Callie hissed sharply, cutting him off as she reached over and put her hand on his arm.

Jesús immediately looked back over at her, "_What_?"

"Don't, please. They're just kids," Callie told him in a hushed whisper. She glanced over quickly at Mariana for support, but her sister's lips were pressed firmly into a thin line and she looked like she was five seconds away from yelling at someone too. Concerned that they were about to create a scene, Callie begged them with her eyes to drop it.

Jesús clenched his fist tighter and for a second Callie worried that he wouldn't listen to her but after a beat he huffed, "Fine," stalking off and dropping dramatically down in the grass.

"Jesús…" Callie called after him, rubbing at the back of her neck, the heat under her fingertips telling her that she was still blushing. She sighed, glancing over at her sister, whose lips were still pressed together, "Mariana…"

"Girls are allowed to have short hair._ They_ should know that," Mariana said firmly, glancing in the direction of the boys, who, maybe seeing her scathing look, decided at that moment to scamper off. She shook her head, clearly annoyed, and then followed in her brother's footsteps, walking quickly to the tree and dropping down on the grass beside him.

Callie sighed again and then walked slowly over to her siblings. "Guys…" she started softly, sitting down in front of them.

"You should have let me yell at them," Jesús grumbled, interrupting whatever Callie was about to say.

"They were kids," Callie reiterated what she'd already said, "If I let someone make a scene every time I got stared at, there'd be a lot of scenes, Jesús," Callie explained, suddenly sounding tired.

Picking up on what Callie was saying, Mariana frowned, "_That's_ happened before?"

Callie sighed, shrugging one shoulder, "Not _that_, exactly. But people stare. I'm used to it." The staring now wasn't the same as it had been when she'd been clearly sick. The staring that came with having a bald head and missing eyebrows and eyelashes had mostly been the pitying kind of staring. She'd been able to read it all over peoples' faces, the 'oh you poor thing, how terrible' looks (which was why she'd mostly avoided eye contact with strangers at all costs). The staring now was of a different nature, it was always laced with confusion. She could practically see the wheels turning as people tried to figure out why exactly her hair was so short. She still wasn't sure which staring bothered her more. Although, she did know that the latest kind of staring was more frustrating – it was hard to move on when nearly every person she crossed paths with provided the reminder that she no longer looked the way she used to, that, even now with some hair, cancer had turned her into something to be stared at.

"People stare? Like all the time?" Mariana asked, the disgust clear in her tone and her expression.

Callie chuckled then, for some reason amused by the expression on Mariana's face. She reached up and ran her hand over the soft, inch long hair, which was, annoyingly, coming in several shades lighter than her actual hair colour. "Yes, pretty much," she finally clarified.

"That's dumb," Jesús announced, "People shouldn't be allowed to be so dumb."

So used to rolling her eyes at anything her brother said, Mariana started to do just that, but mid-eye roll she stopped, realizing that she completely agreed with him. "Sometimes I'm really concerned for the human race."

Callie shook her head, plucking a handful of grass and chucking it playfully in Mariana's direction, "Be nice. Not everyone has a sister who had cancer and moms who raised them to know that there aren't actually boy hair styles and girl hair styles, just hair styles."

"Did. You. Just. Throw. Grass. At. Me?" Mariana enunciated each word clearly, the look of disbelief on her face making Callie giggle.

"She did," Jesús laughed at his sister. He was mid-laugh, his mouth open, when Callie threw a fistful of grass at him too. He sputtered, wiping at his tongue with the back of his hand, trying to get the stray blades of grass that had landed there out of his mouth. He narrowed his eyes in Callie's direction and then he glanced over at Mariana, his subtle head nod, the only signal his twin needed.

Mariana leaned forward, dumping the grass she'd quickly collected in both of her hands on top of Callie's head.

Callie shrieked in surprise, laughing as grass fell from the top of her head onto her shoulders and into her eyes.

Jesús followed Mariana's lead, waving his own fistful full of grass in front of Callie's face, as she tried to duck out of the way. The ducking was unnecessary though because, at the last minute, Jesús rotated his body, chucking the grass at Mariana instead and declaring, "Grass fight!"

* * *

Looking back, it turned out that that grass fight would be a high point in a month that Callie would later define as basically nothing but a series of frustrations.

It started with an infection caused by the dissolvable stitches from her de-portation that apparently hadn't gotten the memo that they were supposed to dissolve and that, in a somewhat painful turn of events, her GP had to dig out in his office. The ad-hock procedure made an already garish looking scar, look even worse. She certainly hoped it would look better over time but was fairly, frustratingly, sure that it was going to remain a reminder of her cancer for the rest of her life.

Although the un-dissolving dissolvable stitches had added an annoying kind of frustration to her life, Callie's next bought of frustration proved more difficult to shoulder. It came after a simple reminder from Mama one morning that her first post-remission check up with her oncologist would be the following week. Callie, of course, had known the day was coming, but that reminder was like a switch, turning the upcoming appointment into the thing looming over her like a dark cloud. Despite frequent internal arguments with herself, which mostly involved reminders that she couldn't feel a single lump (besides the scar tissue) and that she'd had a chest x-ray not that long ago so clearly nothing was wrong, she frustratingly couldn't shake her increasing nerves.

* * *

The morning of Callie's three month oncologist checkup, moms sent everyone else off to school like usual, and let Callie sleep in. Not that Callie was actually sleeping upstairs (as far as she could tell she'd probably gotten about two hours of sleep the previous night) but she hadn't wanted to see any of her siblings that morning, hadn't wanted to project her nerves onto them.

Eventually, when the shuffling of feet downstairs died down, she got out of bed, got changed and slowly made her way down into the kitchen, stopping just inside the room.

Lena was sitting with Jacob in her lap on one of the stools, and Stef was leaning with her back against the counter sipping a cup of coffee. They were talking quietly but when Callie entered the kitchen they stopped both looking over at her.

Lena smiled, "Morning baby. How are you?"

Callie just shrugged uncertainly, rubbing the back of her neck and trudging over to the table, climbing up onto one of the stools beside Lena and reaching over to grab Jacob's hand. "Hi Jakey," she smiled as she swayed his arm and was rewarded with a smile and a sputtering of baby jabber.

Lena reached over and rubbed Callie's back, not pushing, despite her daughter's obvious discomfort.

"What do you want for breakfast, sweets?" Stef asked, "We still have a half an hour before we have to leave."

Callie shrugged again, eyes still on Jacob as she announced quietly, "Not hungry."

"Sweetheart," Lena said softly, her hand still brushing in a slow gentle rhythm back and forth along Callie's back, "you need to eat something."

"I'm not hungry," Callie repeated again, this time looking up from Jacob, biting her lip. When Stef just quirked an eyebrow at her, clearly not buying it, Callie sighed, "My stomach feels weird."

"You're nervous," Stef offered. It wasn't a question but a statement.

Callie stared at her a long minute before slowly she nodded, nearly imperceptibly.

No one said anything, the only noise Jacob's baby jabber, as Lena continued to rub Callie's back.

Stef paused only a second before she walked over to the fridge and pulled out an apple juice box, setting it down in front of Callie, "Here, drink this. We'll go get food after your appointment." Resting her hand on the table and bending down to kiss the top of the girl's head, she added quietly, barely above a whisper, "Mama and I didn't eat either."

* * *

In the days before Callie's appointment there had been multiple long debates about who was going with their daughter to the cancer center. In the end, Stef and Lena had finally agreed that they_ both_ had to be there. They pretended it was because it was what was best for Callie but, while that might be true, what was also true was that it was what was best for them too. Sure, neither of them could really fully comprehend what Callie was going through, but the appointment made them nervous too. They needed to be there.

So, when Callie walked into the Hematology wing of the cancer center that morning, it was with a mom on either side of her and her baby brother in the stroller she'd insisted on pushing herself. Bringing Jacob here wasn't ideal but there'd been no one they could really leave him with and, since Callie wouldn't need to set foot in the chemo wing, technically having the baby with them wasn't against the rules. Besides, she thought, technically he'd been here for just as many appointments as her moms had.

In the end, having Jacob there, proved helpful. Her moms provided her with strength and support, which she needed, but the baby provided her with something almost more important – a distraction. No distraction could completely calm her raging thoughts or her nerves but when the elderly people in the waiting room turned their focus (which was usually directed suspiciously and sympathetically in her direction) to Jacob, wanting to know his name and how old he was and all the other things people always wanted to know about babies, being there felt at least momentarily bearable.

* * *

Any calmness that Jacob had brought her in the waiting room, completely disappeared once they were ushered into an exam room, the dark cloud that had been following her around, re-settling firmly above her head.

Sitting in a seat she'd sat in many times, Stef on one side of her, Lena on her other, Callie felt like her heart might beat its way right out of her chest if the doctor didn't get in there and tell her she was fine soon. She'd made it through blood work relatively unscathed (despite it taking four attempts before they'd gotten blood), and, with the baby distracting everyone, the waiting room hadn't been as terrible as she knew it could be, but now with nothing left to do but wait for Dr. Lawson, she sat uncomfortably.

It was weird, and extremely unsettling, to be in the place she associated with some of her worst memories. It felt almost as if the smell of the place itself, the strange mixture of antibacterial hand soap, whatever it was they washed the floors with, and something else that she couldn't quite put her finger on (maybe it was fear), was a trigger, forcing her brain to bring all of those terrible memories to the forefront of her mind, leaving the palms of her hands clammy and her vision almost cloudy.

Thinking of her clammy hands, Callie rubbed her palms against her jeans, trying to remove the moisture, to no avail.

Noticing the motion, Lena reached for Callie's hands, squeezing them between both of hers, "Dr. Lawson will be in here soon sweetheart. You're alright." Those last words were clearly meant more as an assurance that Callie was strong enough to endure the waiting than having anything to do with her medical status.

Stef bounced Jacob on her knee, "Mama's right," She smiled warmly at first Callie and then Lena and then added, "We're _all_ alright," a show of strength for two of the people she loved most in the world. She bounced Jacob some more, glancing down at her son, another one of the people she loved most in the world, "And how about you Jacob? You're better than alright, aren't you?"

The baby jabbered happily.

* * *

Whether or not Lena was right about Dr. Lawson being there soon was a matter for debate. It took ten minutes for the oncologist to enter the exam room and, while most people would call ten minutes short, those were some of the longest ten minutes of Callie's life.

The appointment itself, which started with Dr. Lawson's usual handshake, was short and anticlimactic.

Dr. Lawson told them that Callie's blood work had been good and, after a quick physical exam, he declared that he also couldn't feel any lumps. All that left was for him to answer any questions that they might have but even that went quickly because they only had one – how long could the temporary menopause last before they should start being worried (the answer was a year, not exactly what Callie wanted to hear because she was tired of hot flashes but, she supposed, better than him saying that they should already be worried).

Callie practically ran out of the building when the appointment was over, Lena following after her with Jacob and Stef staying behind to schedule her next appointment. As she stepped outside into the sunshine, she immediately sucked air deeply into her lungs in an attempt to expel the smell of the place from her system. Her head spinning as she replayed the entire visit in her head.

She was still cancer free. She should feel ecstatic. But she didn't. It wasn't that she wasn't happy. She _was _happy. But she still felt the weird, unsettled, feeling she'd felt waiting in the exam room. She gulped in another large breath of air, as she wondered in frustration if visits to this place would always leave her feeling so terrible.

* * *

The Sunday afternoon after her oncologist checkup, Callie sat at the table in the dinning room across from Brandon. They both had their history books open and they were taking turns asking each other questions, preparing for a test they had coming up the following week.

Before they'd started, Brandon had set out a bowl of grapes and a bowl of popcorn and he'd poured Callie and himself a glass of water. He'd hoped that these things would help make the studying more pleasant for his sister but he could tell by the way the creases on her forehead kept getting deeper and deeper that it hadn't been an especially successful strategy. Clearly, she was frustrated.

History was, by far, Callie's least favourite subject. Her comprehension had thankfully gotten better since she'd returned to school, so subjects like math weren't so much of a problem anymore, although homework did still take her a lot longer than it used to. English was fine too, as long as she remembered to proof read her answers, twice – her brain now had this odd habit of dropping strange words mid-sentence that did not belong, for instance, once she'd re-read a sentence and found strawberry where she'd meant to write somehow. History, however, required a skill set that she just no longer seemed to possess. History required her to remember obscure details, dates, peoples' names – it was a task that some days felt nearly impossibly and it drove her crazy. Once upon a time she'd been _good_ at school, she could exert minimal effort and succeed, freeing up time to help Jude with his homework. It was strange being on the other side of that coin now, being the one who _needed_ help. And, what was worse was that she wasn't even sure if any amount of help in the world would ever result in success.

Brandon watched Callie carefully as he reached for a grape, wondering if he should suggest that they stop studying for now. He figured if she wanted to quit, she would say so though, so, instead, he asked her one of the practice test questions before popping the grape into his mouth.

Callie scrunched up her forehead as she racked her brain, trying desperately to retrieve the date from her memory. After a minute, though, she gave up. _It was no use_. She dropped her head onto her textbook with a groan, "I'm never going to pass this test."

Brandon sighed softly, reaching forward across the table and placing his hand on top of Callie's, waiting for her to glance up from the textbook at him, to say, "You will. I'm not going to let you fail. Even if we have to sit here for the rest of the afternoon _and_ all night."

Callie gave him a half smile, "I appreciate it Brandon, I really do. But…I just…I'm useless at this stuff now. You're wasting your time."

"Come on, don't say that," He shook his head, "Spending time with you is_ never _a waste of time. Plus, against popular belief, I actually_ do_ have to study," he joked, trying to lighten the mood, "So this is helping me too."

Callie shook her head, laughing at him despite herself, "Okay, okay. You win. Give me another question."

He tried to pick out something easy that he thought she would know the answer too but the way she stared blankly at him, opening and closing her mouth, as if about to say something but then changing her mind, made his heart sink.

Stef walked into the dinning room then. She'd been listening just outside the entrance for several minutes and she knew it was time to put an end to this study session. She appreciated Brandon trying to help his sister, and she would make sure to tell him as much later, but sometimes less was more or, at least, sometimes Callie hit a wall and it was time to call it quits for a while. The problem was that Callie was usually too stubborn to admit when she'd walked into that wall. Stef was pretty sure now was one of those times. "Whatcha doing in here?" she asked casually, walking over to the table and stopping beside Callie's chair, resting one hand on the back of Callie's chair and the other on the table as she peered over Callie's shoulder at the history book.

"Studying," Brandon explained simply.

Stef glanced up from Callie's textbook and across the table at Brandon, still speaking casually, as she asked, "How long you been doing that for?"

Brandon glanced over at the clock before he answered, "A few hours."

Stef nodded, having expected as much based on the frustrated bits of conversation she'd overheard, "Well…it's probably about time for a break then. Yes?"

Brandon looked like he was about to agree but Callie cut him off, moaning, "We can't take a break, the test is on Tuesday."

"Okay but Tuesday is still two days away, sweets. A little break won't hurt," Stef responded lightly, moving her hand off the back of Callie's chair and moving it up to smooth the girl's hair, "It might even help. You can come back to it, after dinner, refreshed."

"But…" Callie started to protest.

"But nothing Cal," Stef interrupted, her voice firmer now, "I'm the mom and I say it's time for a break."

Callie sighed in defeat, her shoulders slumping as she grumbled, "Fine."

"You make it sound like I'm torturing you, not telling you to take a break," Stef shook her head, chuckling lightly.

"I promise we'll study more later, Callie," Brandon jumped in, hoping to make her feel better. He paused a beat and then added, "Want to go jam or something until dinner?"

Callie looked over at him, unable to resist smiling then at his clear attempt to make her feel better, "Yeah…sure."

* * *

That night, sitting in bed with Jacob sprawled out between the two of them, Stef looked over at Lena, "Honey?"

"Yeah?" Lena asked, not looking away from their son, her hand rubbing his stomach as his arms waved enthusiastically.

"Do you think…should we be….does Callie need help?" Stef asked the question hesitantly. Before Lena she would have chalked things like therapy up to hoopla or, at best, unnecessary. Now she knew better but it still remained a topic that she tended to defer to her wife on.

"What kind of help?" Lena asked quizzically, finally looking away from Jacob and over at her wife.

"I don't know. Therapy. Or something…" Stef shrugged, running a finger down Jacob's arm, stopping near his tiny hand and letting him wrap it around her finger, smiling, despite the serious conversation, as the baby squeezed.

"Did something happen?" Lena asked expectantly. She didn't disagree, she'd been worried for a while actually, but she was curious to know the reason why her wife was bringing this up today.

"She was so worried about that oncologist appointment. And she just seems frustrated a lot of the time lately. Her and Brandon were studying before dinner and I had to make her stop. I was worried she was heading for a full meltdown," Stef explained slowly, the worry evident.

Lena considered what her wife was saying carefully, "I think her frustration and worry is understandable. But also...I don't think we really get what it's like for her. What I mean is, I think our worry and frustration probably isn't the same as _her_ worry and frustration."

Stef pursed her lips as Lena spoke. _Was that the problem? That they didn't get it? Did they not understand what it was like for her? _The more she thought about it, the more she thought that Lena might be right – her wife usually was. After all, all worry wasn't created equal. Their worry was the worry of parents, so, by that logic, it couldn't possibly be the same as Callie's. Finally she nodded her agreement.

Lena tilted her head, allowing herself a moment to think when Stef didn't say anything else, "Maybe what she needs is to talk to someone her age who has been through what she has. Maybe that would be good for her."

Stef had assumed the option they would look into would be a therapist, she hadn't even considered the possibility of Callie being able to talk to someone her own age. She looked back over at Lena, "Like a support group? Do they have those for teenagers who had cancer?"

"I'm not actually sure," Lena responded carefully, "But I'll make some calls. You're right Stef, Callie probably would benefit from some support other than us." Lena smiled at her wife, her love for the other woman hard to contain, "Our kids are so lucky to have you as a mother, looking out for them. I love you."

"I love you," Stef's reply was immediate and sincere and then, after a minute she smirked, "And, really, what you should be saying is that they're lucky to have _you_. Where do you think I learned all of my tricks from anyway?"

Lena snorted, rolling her eyes at her wife, reaching over and shoving her arm playfully before she glanced down at Jacob, rubbing his belly, "Your mommy is silly little man."

* * *

Two days later, Callie came home from school, clearly agitated.

She walked right past the living room, intent on heading upstairs, flopping down on her bed, and maybe never moving again. She stopped her ascent of the stairs, however, when Mama called out to her.

Lena appeared from the living room, she'd been confused when Callie hadn't followed the rest of her siblings into the living room. Usually all of her children at least popped in quickly to say hi. "Callie? Where are you going?" She asked, craning her neck up the stairs.

"My room," Callie answered with a grumble.

"Rough day kiddo?" Lena quirked an eyebrow.

"Something like that," Callie shot back quickly.

"Sweetheart…" Lena started, moving to the foot of the stairs now so that she could see Callie better, "What happened?"

"_Nothing_ happened…" Callie sighed, "…just the history test…it was_ too_ hard."

"Honey, I'm sure you did better than you think," Lena hummed softly, starting to climb the stairs.

"Yeah, sure," Callie shrugged, retreating as Lena starting to climb the stairs, "I'm just going to lie down for a bit, okay?" She just really needed some time alone. She didn't want to talk about how frustrated she was with school, with everything, right this second. Her brain hurt from all the thinking she'd done at school today and she just felt so tired, more tired than she'd felt in a while.

Lena pursed her lips but then slowly she nodded, "Sure, sweetheart. I'll come get you before dinner."

* * *

An hour later, Lena, with Stef now by her side, was knocking gently on the doorframe to the girls' room.

Callie was lying in bed, eyes closed, although not actually asleep, when she heard the knock at the door. She sat up, rubbing her eyes groggily, "Dinner?" She called.

Lena stepped into the room, Stef on her heels, "Not quite yet, sweetheart."

"Huh?" Callie squinted at them, confused now – especially because they were both here.

"Mama said your test didn't go well?" Stef asked softly, moving over to the bed and nudging Callie over so that she could sit down beside her.

"It was…" Callie took a deep breath, "…hard, I guess."

"You guess?" Stef quirked an eyebrow, wrapping her arm around Callie's shoulder and pulling her close.

Callie closed her eyes, snuggling closer into her mom's side, and then, after a beat, whispering, barely loud enough to hear, "Maybe it was fine…I just miss school being easy."

Stef nodded, saying nothing just squeezing Callie's shoulder.

Lena moved over and sat facing Stef and Callie on the edge of the bed, reaching forward and squeezing Callie's foot, "We know transitioning back to school has been hard."

Callie shrugged, saying nothing.

"Sweets, it's okay to admit you're having a difficult time. That's perfectly normal," Stef hummed.

_Normal?_ How could it possibly be normal when Callie felt anything but normal? Callie didn't know what to say though, so, again, she said nothing.

"Sweetheart," Lena tried, "Mom is right. It's only been a few months since you finished chemo. You've got to be easier on yourself. Things aren't going to get better overnight."

"But…I want them to," Callie's words were quiet, so soft that her moms had to strain to hear them.

"I know, baby, I know," Stef rubbed her shoulder tenderly, leaning over and placing a kiss on her temple.

"We wanted to talk to you about something that we think might help Callie," Lena spoke up after a minute.

Callie looked over at her, the curiosity evident in her gaze.

"Here," Lena held out the brochure she'd gotten from the hospital when she'd stopped to talk to Callie's oncology nurse. "It's a non-profit organization and they have retreats for adolescents aged 14 to 19 every four months. They have one coming up in Los Angeles in two weeks. We thought you might want to go."

Callie squinted down at the picture of smiling people sitting around a camp fire on the brochure. _So was this was just sitting around a circle talking about your feelings? _It seemed like it was basically just the same as the group therapy she'd been forced to go to before she'd gotten too sick to actually go – just with sick people instead of foster kids. It didn't sound like a good idea at all and she frowned.

Even though Callie wasn't saying anything, Stef seemed to understand what she was thinking and she reached over and snagged the girl's hand, "Kiddo, this isn't something we're going to force you to go to but if you do decide that you don't want to, the only thing we ask is that you talk to someone who has been to one of these before and see what they say before you make the decision final. Your oncology nurse told Mama that the organization can get us the contact info for someone for you to talk to if you want. I think you'll see that this isn't like therapy at all. It's about meeting people your age who understand what it's like to have had cancer as a teenager. And it's about learning some skills to deal with some of those annoying lingering side effects, like brain fog. Because, Callie, as much as we want to help you, Mama and I know that we will never understand exactly what it was like, what it's still like, for you. I really think you should go. I really think it will help."

Callie sighed, thinking about it for several minutes before slowly she said, "No, I don't need to talk to anyone…" Her next words came out nervously, "…I-I'll go."

She couldn't admit it out loud but the truth was she was so lost. She'd been so lost for months. And even though she thought that this retreat probably wouldn't help. Maybe, just maybe, it would.


End file.
